-1This story is about the mind numbing consequences of ten of the best Gondor Rangers being sent, by magic obviously, to a little forest that we all know…
Xxxx
Raven laid his hand on the tree beside him. Such a sad fate, used as firewood for Orc fires, chopped to pieces.
Raven thought about his fate. Destined to die by an Orc blade or crushed under a Mumakil's foot. What is the point of living? He will die sooner or later, unlike his teachers.
The Elves had shown him and his men numerous things while the Rangers were under their tutelage, and enlightened them to more than just war and killing. Raven and his men were changed, in oh so many ways.
Of course, the rest of Gondor now thought that Raven's men were emotionless killers, refined by the 'cold and brutal elves'.
If only they knew, knew that in comparison to Men, Men were the brutes, and Elves were the peaceful folk.
Every man in Raven's battalion, all ten of them, including Raven, had lost all relations. All of the men had given up their names long ago, replacing them with their favorite animals. It helped them contain their anger, forget their rage.
Their time was up. Raven's squad was expected to return to Minas Tirith to receive new orders after their stay in Mirkwood.
Raven walked back to the camp, all but invisible. As he returned, a shadow flickered behind him, on a tree naught ten feet back. A bowstring was pulled back almost silently. Almost.
Raven paused, hearing the slight stretching of the string, and very quietly whispered, "Tol acharn."(1)
The shadow stilled, and Raven continued walking. After a few moments, he came upon a small camp. Five people were at the camp, one sleeping, one cooking, one shooting at a target, and two talking softly.
As Raven strode into the clearing, the man cooking quietly laid out six trays with bowls of vegetable soup, leaving two loaves of bread out on trays, set apart form the rest.(2)
One of the men talking gently shook the one sleeping, and the man shooting put down his bow and came over to eat.
The men eat quietly and quickly. When they were done, four more men appeared. One grabbed the loaves, splitting them roughly in two, and divided them amongst the newcomers.
When everyone had eaten, the first five men and one of the sentries started packing, while Raven and the other three guarded them. When the six had finished, the other four started packing. When everyone was ready, three of the original men from the camp scouted ahead, while the other two acted as the rearguard. Raven and the sentries formed a single file line, with Raven in the lead.
The Rangers traveled light and fast, carrying only their rations, bows, swords, and armor.(3)
After four hours of travel, the Rangers came out of the forest, onto the great plain of Pelenor Fields.
They continued traveling until darkness, setting up camp. Two sentries, three hour shifts, no fire.
The night passed thus, uneventful and bleak. When morning came, one of the two sentries had lain bread and water out for everyone. The men eat in a similar fashion to yesterday, six eating and four guarding, then reverse.
The Rangers pressed on, same formation, and by mid day, they could see the City of Kings, illuminated against the sun.
The Rangers paused briefly, gazing at the city they had not see for two years.
One Ranger walked up to Raven, his black cloak floating with the wind.
" Raven, do you think the gate guards will recognize us?" the man whispered, in Gondorian.
" Hawk, you need not worry, Captain Boromir personally gave me authorization forms for the leave. I'm guessing you probably knew that, and that you only wanted to make sure you can still speak our tongue, right?" Raven murmured back to Hawk, also in Gondorian.
" Correct as usual Raven." Hawk murmured, feeling slightly irritated.
The men walked by the walls, not appearing to notice the looks of guards, peering over the walls. Before they could reach the gate, however, a guard called out to them, " Halt! Who wishes to enter Minas Tirith?"
The Rangers froze, as Raven tipped his head upwards, calling back to the guard, " It is the Rangers who went to train with the Elves, as Lord Denethor requested. We have returned to serve our land once again, who are you to challenge us?"
The guard called back, " We shall open the gate, but be prepare to identify yourselves properly! Open the Gate!" the guard yelled the last part.(4)
The Rangers walked calmly to the Gate, glad to return to serve their country, yet sad to return to the hell that is war.
As the Rangers rounded the Gate, they continued walking, halting in front of the double file of soldiers and archers.
The Gate rumbled shut behind them, enhancing the dramatic scene.
Raven took two long strides in front of his men, pulling his authorization papers out, handing them to a Captain commanding the gate guards.
The Captain read the papers for a moment, before pausing.
" These papers were given by the authority of Captain Boromir, yes?" the Captain inquired.
" Yes sir, Captain Boromir assured us that we would be allowed back into the Ranger Corps after the training, that we would be back on active service." Raven said, hiding his growing suspicion. Where was Captain Boromir? Shouldn't he greet the very men he authorized to leave for two years?
" There is a slight problem with these orders." the Captain said, surprising Raven.
" What exactly is the problem, sir?" Raven inquired, suspicion rising fast.
" Captain Boromir left for a council in Rivendell, six months ago. He has not returned." the Captain said, his face downcast.
The Rangers froze, shocked beyond imagining. Captain Boromir, the greatest Captain ever, gone, missing!
" However, these forms are still in order, so I can allow you back into the Corps." the Captain said, motioning for a boy to guide them to their barracks.
The Rangers followed the boy, their brains still in lockdown. Boromir, a highly respected comrade, the Greatest Captain ever, gone.
The Rangers arrived at their barracks, half full with other Rangers, Archers, and Soldiers. All the back round noise and chatter faded as the Rangers entered. Every man stared at the companions, in battle scarred clothes, with black cloaks, with swords and armor of all things!
A man, dressed in a Ranger's gear, with a sword buckled to his side, walked up to the weary companions.
" I'm Faramir, Captain of this company. You've been assigned to my company, so I expect you to inform my of all your capable of." the man said, introducing himself.
" I'm Raven, leader of this squad. We have been extensively trained in archery, sword play, and tactical planning. We are master archers, nowhere as good as Elves, but they've had thousands of years to perfect themselves. We are expert swordsmen, trained in using the Elven blade, no shield. We have had massive strategic training, and will not fall for traps or tricks. We will not retreat unless ordered or forced to by massive numbers. We have all had survival and medical training. If we are separated by enemy forces, expect enemy numbers to drop. Massively. Now, if you'll excuse us, we would like to find some bunks." Raven stated, staring into Faramir's eyes.
Faramir locked eyes with Raven for a while, and finally nodded. The rest of the soldiers went back to what they where doing. The companions turned, and started walking for the nearest unused section of the barracks.
" I think you're going to like it here, Raven. Oh, by the way, I need some type of name for your unit. I can't just call you 'the Elf trained Rangers' all the time." Faramir called.
Raven turned from around for a second, and called back to Faramir, " We're the Ghosts. Raven's Ghosts."
Xxxxx
1: 'Vengeance comes'
2: The Elves have passed on their vegetarian ways to the Ghosts.
3: The Elves are smarter than to send the Ghosts out to war with only a bow.
4: Sorry for the cheesiness, but it fits, doesn't it?
Alright, the Ghosts are going to be like Jacks-of-all-Trades. They don't spend all their time training with their bows, so their not Legolas. Likewise, they don't spend all their time training with their swords, so their not Aragorn. Please review! I need ideas.
